I sigh and shake my head as I walk toward her. With my hand on her shoulder, I direct her toward the stairs. “I don’t think so, Ruby.”
“Why not?” Ruby jumps from the last two steps, landing flawlessly on her feet.
“It’s not easy for him to get off in the middle of the day.” I help Ruby continue getting ready, making sure the bib of her snowsuit is clipped together before I slip into my coat and hand Ruby her scarf.
“Maybe he’ll want to see me.”
“Maybe.” I want to tell her not to get her hopes up, but I can’t. I won’t. She’ll learn quickly enough that her father only puts himself first.
“It’s snowing!” Ruby screams as we step out onto the porch. “Can we walk to the park?”
I nod and reach for her hand. Carefully, we navigate the stairs. I am mentally ticking off everything I’ll have to do when I get home: shovel the walkway, clean the stairs, and snow-blow the driveway. Every day the list gets longer. Thinking about winter and the amount of snowfall we get, it makes me want to move to a warmer climate so I don’t have to deal with any of this.
Ruby loves the snow though. It’s evident by the way she’s skipping through it so the fallen flakes kick up and blow in the wind. This makes her smile, and in turn, I smile too.
As soon as we hit Main Street, we feel the Christmas spirit is alive and well. There are garlands and white lights wrapped around the wrought iron light poles with red ribbons tied to them. The storefronts are decorated and festive, filling me with holiday cheer despite everything, and the carolers are out, singing the songs I grew up listening to.
“Are you ready for your concert?” In a few days, the elementary school will have their winter concert. Ruby has been practicing for it in her own special way. She’s too young to have all the words memorized, but she tries, and does so very loudly.
“Gabe says I’m the best.”
Gabe? I search through my memory bank of
teachers at her school but am unable to recall someone named Gabe.
“Is Gabe new?”
Ruby shrugs. “He’s my friend. I like him.”
A wave of relief comes over me as I quickly realize that Gabe is likely a classmate. I think it’s cute that Ruby has a crush. I remember my first crush. I was in the first or second grade, and his name was Walter. I liked him until we were in fifth grade, when he moved away. For the life of me, I can’t even recall his last name, which is odd since I’m pretty sure I spent most of that year doodling his name all over my notebook and imagining the day we’d cross paths again.
Reaching for Ruby’s hand, we cross the street and step into the park. The loud speakers, set in the maple trees, belt out more Christmas music, while a group of children partake in a snowball fight. Coming to the park to skate has been something everyone in town does. But it was always the afternoon with the church group that stood out the most. My mom or dad would offer to come with me, but I’d tell them to work so I could pretend I was more grown up than I really was.
From afar, my name rings out. It’s faint, but there’s something about a close family member yelling your name that you’ll always hear. When I look around, I spot two women frantically shaking their arms in the air. Ruby and I head toward my sister Eliza and sister-in-law Amber, who have secured a coveted bench for us to sit on.
“Aunties,” Ruby yells as she lets go of my hand. She rushes to them, slipping a little on the compacted snow, and giggles before finishing her sprint. Both women wrap her in hugs. Since Rory and I separated, they’ve been my rock, my shoulders to cry on, my voice of reason even when one of them may not agree with me. It doesn’t matter what time it is, I can call either of them, and they’re on my doorstep within minutes, and always with ice cream.
After I help Ruby with her ice skates and make sure her helmet is snug, I kiss her nose, much to her delight and dismay as she giggles and wobbles away from me. My niece is waiting for Ruby with her arm stretched out and her fingers wiggling. As soon as the two clasp hands, they’re gliding across the ice together, heading toward a small group of kids. For the past couple of winters, Ruby has taken a six-week ice-skating course. The classes are just enough to teach her balance and how to skate forward and backward. I made the mistake of watching her first lesson, which is when they taught the group how to fall properly. I about had a heart attack that day, but Ruby thought it was the best day ever.
“You look exhausted,” my sister, Eliza, says as I sit down next to her and sigh. My hand tries to find my neck, but under the bulky sweater, turtleneck, and scarf I’m wearing, it’s nearly impossible, but still, I rub and twist, trying to relieve the built-up pressure.
“That’s because she doesn’t sleep,” Amber, my sister-in-law, says, handing me a large cup of something hot. I don’t care what it is. I need it, and the heat of holding the cup sends a bit of warmth through my gloved hands.
“I don’t and just when I finally get a decent night’s sleep, something happens, and I’m up all night. This week, Rory was served with divorce papers, and I spent half the night second-guessing myself and the rest of the night wondering why he didn’t call or show up. Part of me thought he’d at least come to the house, angry, and we could talk.”
My sisters scoot closer, and both give me a hug. I need it, but it’s not the comfort I desire. I want Rory’s arms around me. It’s been so long since I’ve felt them that I’ve forgotten how they feel. The passion between us went first. The change was subtle. We didn’t have time for each other, we were too tired, too busy, or more often than not I was in bed when he finally came home from work. A good-bye kiss turned to a peck, which turned into a grumble as one of us left the room. By then, emotions were all over the place, and the stakes were high. Words said and actions taken. Both are hard to take back.
We part, giving me a chance to catch my breath. If my sisters keep at it, I’m liable to shed a few tears, and I don’t want Ruby to see. And I definitely don’t want pity from anyone in my church group.
“Here, maybe this will help.” My sister hands me a white paper bag from the pastry shop. “It’s chocolate. We all need chocolate in our lives.” She sighs, but her life is perfect. I know I used to think the same about mine, but Eliza and Alex really do have a great relationship. When I look at my sister, I feel like a failure.
“Maybe he’ll come around,” Amber blurts out. Both Eliza and I turn to look at her, but she’s staring straight ahead. I turn slightly, half expecting Rory to be standing on the other side of the rink, but he’s not. He wouldn’t even know to come since I never told him.
“I’m not holding my breath,” I tell them both. “I thought … Well, I’m not sure what I thought, but this wasn’t it. I guess I figured we’d last a week apart, not months.”
The subject needs to change. It’s almost Christmas, and if I keep dwelling on my current state, I’m going to make Ruby’s holiday unbearable. Just as I’m about to take a sip of what’s surely lukewarm cocoa, I scan the ice rink, not once or twice but three times for my daughter. By the time I’m on my feet, my sisters are standing next to me, each clutching one of my arms.
“What’s wrong?” Eliza asks.